


Late Night Kitchen Raid

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: The Other Regan [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:03:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another sleepless night’s conversation.  Cullen finally gets to learn a little more about Regan's family, and Regan learns a tiny, yet important, tidbit about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Kitchen Raid

She was awake again. While this didn’t happen every night, it was beginning to get frustrating. She tried simply pacing in her quarters, but the expansive room didn’t make her feel comfortable. The room had been decorated to Josephine’s specifications, fit for nobility. It was lovely, but it didn’t feel like home. As quietly as possible, she made her way to the courtyard, heading for the stables once again. The horses usually calmed her, felt familiar. But the night was too quiet this time - even the horses were asleep.

Cullen awoke again, sitting upright in an instant. This was becoming almost routine now. He knew she was awake, again. He didn’t know how he knew, or why he always woke up, but he didn’t question it. He shrugged on his surcoat and made his way out of his office, wondering where she would be this time. He trusted his feet, instincts honed from years of templar training, to lead him where he was needed. 

Why couldn’t at least one of the horses have been awake? She’d have even settled for that creepy horse with the sword in his head. She could have groomed an awake horse, given herself something to do. But she didn’t want to wake any of the animals. It wasn’t fair to them. She kicked the fencepost and started to head back to the Keep. Maybe there was something that would help her pass the time in the lower library, if the spiders were gone, anyway. 

Ah, there she was. She looked as amazing as ever, clad in nothing more than a simple tunic, trousers and boots. Her hair was sticking up in random places. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew every inch already. But she wasn’t staying in the stables this time, it seemed. “Can’t sleep again?” 

She whirled around, swallowing a yelp. She really needed to stop letting her guard down, even around Skyhold. She had enough enemies around; it was conceivable that one could find a way into the keep if they tried hard enough. And all it would take was one trip in the dark, alone, and she would be toast. And she didn’t even have her throwing knives on her. Eyes wide, she finally realized who it was. “Andraste’s balls! Cullen, when did you get so good at sneaking around?” Was he really getting that good or was she just losing her edge?

“Sorry to frighten you, Regan.” He reached for her hand, a small smile playing on his lips. “I thought I might find you here. Or, rather, I … had hoped I would.” Soft kisses to her knuckles followed, ears growing pink and he didn’t care. He heard a faint whine, felt her almost tingle at his touch, and he wanted to do so much more. 

“Cullen,” she whispered, watching him through half-closed eyes with flushed cheeks. “You’re forgiven, good ser.” She slowly pulled her hand back as it was released, using it to tuck her hair behind her ear again. “You’re much quieter without all that armor on. And just as ….” Maker, why was she so out of sorts around him?

“Thinking about … Maker’s breath, where’s your cloak!?” Again, she was out in the cold without anything substantial to keep her warm. “Are you trying to catch your death of chill?” He whipped his surcoat off before she could protest or make some excuse and draped it over her shoulders. Was she really that oblivious to the cold? 

“Maybe I hoped some Ferelden gentleman would offer me his,” she teased lightly, snuggling into the fur lining. It smelled so much of him she didn’t particularly want to give it back. “Or maybe I was so frustrated with not being able to sleep I forgot.” She sheepishly looked away, fully expecting to embarrass herself sooner or later. Every time she tried to talk to him about anything other than official Inquisition business, things in her head got all … muddled. 

“I … see.” He laughed quietly, making an effort not to disturb the horses, or horse master. “Have … you found a … your … a Ferelden gentleman, then?” He liked the way she looked in his surcoat, all wrapped up in its warmth. The only thing that would look better was her, in his arms, as he used that surcoat to keep them both warm. Andraste, help him; he was falling, hard and fast, and didn’t want to stop.

She nodded hesitantly, biting her lip again. She could feel her cheeks grow warm and she busied her hands by petting the furred collar. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, hold him. “I … I think I might have,” she finally whispered, moving close enough to lean against him, barely. “I just … I fear … he may grow chilled as a result, and I could not live with myself if he took ill because of me.” She reached out; let her fingertips glide down his arm until they reached his hand. Tentatively, she wrapped them around his hand, feeling her heart thrum in her chest, her ears growing warmer. Was he going to pull away?

“I … I think it’s a risk he’s willing to take.” Cullen felt her fingers dance along his skin, leaving a tingling trail along his arm. His heart caught in his throat as her she took his hand. And when she started leading him away from the stables, he moved easily, willing to follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond. He knew he was as red as she was, if not more so. There was a fire burning in his cheeks that would not go out, not with her so close.

She led him up a nearby set of stairs and into the kitchens. It was warmer here and she wouldn’t worry so much about him getting cold. Of course, it was warm enough that she really didn’t need the furred surcoat either. But that would mean taking it off, and she wasn’t ready to do that, yet.

“The kitchens?” Cullen wasn’t sure where he had expected to be led, but the kitchens were certainly not at the top of the list. Oh, he hadn’t expected anything unchivalrous – no trips to her quarters or an out of the way nook. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t imagined such things, but he hadn’t expected it. And there were worse places they could end up. At least they were warmer in here.

“I got hungry.” She laughed, looking around. “I thought … maybe … I mean, we could spend some more time together, without an audience? Without a chess board or war table between us?” She reluctantly dropped his hand and turned, using the search through the cabinets as an excuse to hide her growing embarrassment. She wasn’t kidding about being hungry, either. Her stomach chose just that time to convey just how empty it was.

She wanted to spend more time with him? She hadn’t been kidding when she’d suggested it before? Why did that make him so happy? “I … Alright, then. Let’s see what we can find. What are you hungry for?” He moved to one of the pantries and started looking about, tactfully ignoring the lion-like roar that came from her belly.

“You,” she whispered, thankful the fur, distance and cupboard muffled the sound enough so that he couldn’t hear. She knew she was blushing again. It was something that just seemed to happen, a lot, around him. How she wished she was brave enough to just say that. Instead, she made some unhelpful statement about simple foods.

What was that first thing she had said? He thought he’d heard something, quick and faint directed at him, before her actual response, but he couldn’t make it out. And try as he might, she wouldn’t repeat it, swore she hadn’t said anything. Was she just teasing him? That seemed possible; though he was sure it wasn’t intended maliciously. 

They finally settled on some fruit that needed to be eaten before it spoiled, carrying their choices to the small table in the corner. Cullen wanted to hear more about her family. He didn’t mind talking about himself, or his past, but she was still so unknown to him. He needed to know more. “What was your family like?” he asked as she sat down.

“My family?” She should have guessed he would start wanting to know more about her. She’d already asked him so many questions, and still had so many more. But she had been almost secretive about her own past while he had been far more giving with his answers. “Fair enough; anything in particular you were curious about?” 

Cullen fiddled with the apple in front of him, wanting to know everything about her. But that wasn’t really specific. “Anything,” he whispered, not meeting her eyes. “Everything.” He shrugged as he brought his eyes up to look at her again. “I find myself wanting to know everything about you.” He thought he had gotten the blushing under control, but the shocked smile he saw on her face just then brought the blood rushing back to his ears, up the back of his neck. “You told me about your brother in the Circle; what … what about your other siblings?”

“Since you know everything there is to know about Gabriel?” Regan laughed softly, taking a large bite from the apple she’d grabbed. It gave her time to think, figure out who she wanted to talk about, and what she would say.

“Honestly, the only Trevelyan I want to know everything about is sitting right here,” he admitted, hoping he didn’t sound too flippant. He couldn’t believe he’d just admitted that, again. He reached out and gently brushed his fingers over the back of her free hand, trying to build up the courage to just … hold it; to not worry about their titles … positions … and just hold her hand. He noticed she hadn’t pulled away and finally decided to just … go for it. He gently wrapped his fingers around her hand and was pleasantly surprised when she twisted her hand around to squeeze his.

She turned bright red, again. Why was it so easy for this man to make her blush? No one had ever affected her this way. Just the simple touch of his hand had set her pulse racing. “Alright then,” she finally managed to get out, after several minutes of just looking back and forth between their hands and his eyes. “Aaron is the oldest - twelve years older than Tristan and I. He’s a templar. Or, he was before everything went sideways. He was stationed at the circle in Wycome. I … I don’t think he was supposed to be at the Conclave, but no one’s heard from him since. I … I don’t know if he’s OK.”

Well, that was a mood killer, wasn’t it? “I know you’re worried, but I’m certain he’s safe. I told you templars are some of the best warriors around, right? I’m sure he’s able to protect himself.” He brought his other hand over to rest atop hers, wishing he could do more. “I can send some of my men to search, if you would like? They would be glad to locate a fellow templar, especially one who still believes in the order – the proper Order, I mean.”

“Could you, please?” Maker, she was so worried about him, and Gabriel. She’d heard from the rest of her family. They were all safe in their various homes and jobs. But Aaron and Gabriel … the two most at risk …. “I … I would like to find them both.” She just stared at him for a moment, allowing herself to get lost in his eyes. She needed to trust him, and his men. They would find Aaron. Leliana’s people would find Gabriel. They would all be safe. She looked away, stared at the table in silence, worrying.

Well, that hadn’t worked out quite like he’d planned. Twice now, when speaking of her family, she’d gotten worried. He hoped her other siblings were alright, but he was afraid to ask. He needed to think of something; he could only reassure her so much until their agents came back. “I … I’m sorry,” he finally murmured, pulling his hands back. “I did not mean to bring up … I mean, I didn’t mean to remind you of your worries.” He should probably go, before he said or did something to make things even worse. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Cullen.” Her hand moved faster than he’d thought possible, clinging to his before it could even clear the table. “Stay. I don’t mind talking about it, and I actually know where everyone else is.” She didn’t want to go to bed sad, and she didn’t want their conversation to end with him beating himself up for something he didn’t know had happened. “Besides, you being here makes me feel better, more sure everything will work out.”

“I … it does?” He glanced down at her hand, stunned she’d managed to move so quickly. Her grip was firm, but not painfully so. He was certain he could pull away with little trouble, if he wished. But he didn’t. In truth, he wanted to be much closer, have hands in much different places. Maker take it, he wanted to kiss her, to wipe that worry from her face. When she nodded, he smiled. When she smiled back, he felt his heart leap into his throat yet again. If he wasn’t careful, his insides would fully rearrange themselves before long. “Then … I shall stay, as long … as long as you wish.”

She beamed. There could be no other word for the smile that lit up her face when he said he’d stay. “I have two other siblings.” She picked up the topic easily, watching as he still fiddled with the apple in his hand. “Weslyn is married to some lord in Kaiten – Matthew, I believe. She’s actually the only one of us who has managed to settle down, much to mother’s dismay. She did manage to make mother a grandmother quick enough, three times over. I’m not sure what she’s doing at the moment, but I believe her husband makes his own wine in his spare time.

“Tristan is in Ferelden - Denerim, I think. He’s part of the royal guard now, I think. I know he’s in the military there. I’m pretty sure he used the fact that we knew the queen’s brother, and the queen for that matter, to get into the military. But he enjoys it. He even tells me he’s taken in a litter of mabari pups. It’s a Ferelden thing, he says.”

“I always wanted a mabari when I was younger,” Cullen laughed softly. “Mabari are extremely important in Ferelden, and sadly, my family could never afford one. Then, once I joined the Order, there was no place to keep a dog. But they are amazing animals.” He paused a moment, letting her words sink in. “You knew the Hero of Ferelden?”

She always hated talking about that. Why’d she have to go and mention it? She nodded, looking down. “My mother was good friends with Eleanor Cousland, before she became a Cousland. After, they still kept in touch and when Tristan and I were born, it was suggested that perhaps their daughter would marry Tristan. Didn’t work out, but we still saw them frequently when we were little. Didn’t you say something about meeting her?”

“I … did meet her, during the blight,” he admitted, looking away. “But … I would … rather not speak of it. That was a very … difficult time, for all involved.”

“Fair enough,” she replied with a gentle smile. Before he could ask another question, she asked, “Did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?” She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d asked that, but it was something that could end up being important, right?

“No,” he replied, surprised at the subject jump. They’d been talking about her family, hadn’t they? Why were they back on him? “I fear I made few friends there, and the few that were there have scattered to the winds. I was not in a good frame of mind while there. And my family is all in Ferelden. I really should go see them, or at least write.”

“No one special caught your interest there?” She didn’t know why she asked. She couldn’t explain the sudden bout of nerves that assaulted her gut as the last word passed her lips. She knew he’d never mentioned anyone else, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone, did it? He seemed interested in her, right? She wondered where they were going. Were they going anywhere? Andraste’s balls, why wouldn’t her brain stop?

Anyone special? In Kirkwall? He’d barely managed to handle dealing with the mages and templars and rumors running rampant. He wouldn’t have had the time to even consider …. But now, he had the time, didn’t he? Maker, please say he had the time. She was certainly someone special. “Not in Kirkwall.” His voice dropped, the last word edged with want, with need. 

Her gut knotted, her breath hitched. He was looking at her so … intently. Her ears pricked at his answer, hearing the tone almost more than the words. There was no one! Thank the Maker, there was no one. But did that mean he’d found someone special here? Or was he even looking? Was all this flirting – that’s what they were doing, right? Flirting? Was all this flirting just a game, or did it really mean something? “And now?” she whispered, biting her lip.

“I … there … I mean ….” She was doing this on purpose, wasn’t she? She was just trying to get him to blush, she had to be. And it was working, blast it. He knew his ears, his cheeks, even his neck had to be red; everything was on fire. Did he want to admit it? She hadn’t admitted anything, had she? Maybe he could just … hedge the answer a little? “Possibly; I am … not certain yet.” There, he’d given a non-committal answer, hadn’t he? He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no, either. “I fear I am starting to feel the effect of being up so long. Perhaps we should retire to our rooms?”

“Fair enough,” she replied, trying not to look disappointed. She was a little confused. There were so many hints, so many touches and glances and comments …. She thought he was interested, but every time his guard started to drop, it snapped back in an instant. Was he afraid? “Perhaps … perhaps we should retire for the evening. I fear morning comes far too soon. Sleep well, Commander Cullen.” 

“And you as well, Inquisitor Trevelyan.” He chuckled as she stuck her tongue out in response and disappeared through the door leading to the main hall. Oh, Maker, that tongue, those lips … how he wanted …. But why hadn’t he just told her? She’d given him the perfect opening. But he’d hedged, unsure if she truly felt something for him, or if this was all a game.


End file.
